


Topiary

by littleredcoat



Category: Emperor's Edge - Lindsay Buroker
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 10:59:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleredcoat/pseuds/littleredcoat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amaranthe is having trouble finding some privacy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Topiary

 

Topiary

by littleredcoat

 

 

_Disclaimer: All characters I've used here belong to the lovely Lindsay Buroker._

 

 

Amaranthe could feel her heart pounding in her ears. It was imperative that she not be seen, but she was confident that Sicarius's training would help her in that regard. She had always been a fast learner, and an even harder worker, and felt her training was progressing satisfactorily. As she used the mirror to peer around the next corner, she let out her breath in a quiet sigh at finding it clear of obstacles. She continued down the litter-strewn corridor of the abandoned office building, concentrating on keeping her feet from kicking any of the loose debris on the floor. It wouldn't do to be exposed by an errant ball of paper when she had already come so far.

 

Not for the first time, she wondered if she was being ridiculous about this. There was really no reason for her to be sneaking around in the middle of the night. What she was doing was perfectly normal, and she had no reason to think the men would have a second thought about it. But just the thought of one of them bursting in mid-act to inform her that the enforcers were descending was enough to make her cringe.

 

After turning a few more dark corners, she was fraught with nervousness at the idea that taking too long would raise her chances of discovery. She finally decided that she had travelled far enough away from the group, and picked a room at random. Praying the old wooden door wouldn't squeak too loudly, she inched it open just enough to slip inside. Shutting it behind her, she fumbled for a match in the darkness, and lit the lantern she hadn't dared to use in the hallway for fear of being spotted from one of the windows.

 

She set down her small pack, and looked around the room. There were no windows and it held only a battered old chair and desk. It was perfect, she thought with a smile. She set her small pack on the desk, reached for the buckle, and promptly had a heart attack when a voice behind her asked, “Amaranthe, what are you doing?” Before conscious thought reminded her to thank Sicarius for his relentless training, she ducked and swung around as she threw a fist out blindly. About the same time conscious thought clicked back on, she realized it was the man himself. He caught her fist, and she only had the presence of mind to think, “Oh, ancestors, anyone but him.”

 

Amaranthe was frozen. She could do nothing but stand and blink owlishly at Sicarius. Curse his ancestors, the only hint of his being perplexed was that damned eyebrow ticked slightly upwards. As the seconds stretched into a full minute, he slowly released her hand and took a step back. And that was when Amaranthe's mouth caught up with the situation, if not her brain.

 

“Nothing!” Damn it, she was squeaking. His other eyebrow lifted a tiny amount to join its mate. “I just wanted a quiet place to think! Always working on the next plan, you know, and between Akstyr and Books snoring it sounded like grimbals fighting back there, and I thought, hey, there are all these empty rooms, and I went so far away to get away from the noise, and there's a chair here that would be lovely for...thinking....” Abruptly, she realized she was babbling like a fool, and snapped her mouth shut. Through it all, Sicarius just stood there and stared at her. “Huh,” he said, before turning around and leaving. Damn it all, those eyebrows had never gone back down.

 

* * *

 

Sicarius said nothing of her late night ramblings at training the next morning. Amaranthe had been on edge the entire time. Glumly, she wondered what he had made of the encounter. After the interruption, she had been too jumpy to complete the task she'd initially set out on that ancestor cursed fool's errand for, and that left her in an even worse mood. In the worst case, she'd made Sicarius suspicious of her, and at best she'd made herself look like a complete idiot. Even worse, her inattention during training had caused her to make several mistakes, and she'd caught Sicarius staring speculatively at her more than once.

 

The other men had also noticed her inattention, and Maldynado had been brash enough to make a comment about not letting late-night activities distract her. She was sure if Sicarius wasn't too busy being suspicious, he would have been proud of the icy glare she'd thrown his way. After that, the men had wisely held their tongues, and Amaranthe dedicated herself to focusing on the task at hand.

 

After the session, Amaranthe slunk off to lean against one of the desks they had pushed to the side of the large room they used for training. She busied herself unwinding and then putting her hair back into its normally tidy bun. She had a feeling the others cast her a few curious looks, but one by one they departed to do whatever it was they did when not working with the group. She heard Books and Akstyr mumbling something about going to the library to research some book they were working on translating. Books must need to refresh his memory on a language, she thought listlessly. Basilard departed silently, and if he made any signs, she didn't see them. Maldynado was striding down the hallway, probably on his way to the public baths.

 

She turned around, expecting to find an empty room, and found Sicarius still standing silently, and still staring at her with the same speculative look he'd had all morning. She flashed him what she hoped was a convincing smile, and turned to head for the door as well.

 

“Amaranthe.” Drat the man. Dredging up that same hopefully convincing smile, she turned to face him. “Yes, what is it?” As if she didn't know what he was about to bring up. If he didn't think she had devolved into an idiot before, he certainly did by now.

 

“You were...off-balance all morning. Are you well?” Bless him, but he actually sounded concerned. She wondered, as she had before, if she was just getting better at reading him, or if he was actually starting to emote in her presence. She slumped back against the desk, and mumbled, “I'm fine, Sicarius. About last night...I wasn't trying to sneak off to do anything...untoward...”

 

At the word untoward, his eyes widened and a look of understanding dawned on his face. Like a bucket of cold water, it washed over Amaranthe what he thought he had caught her skulking around to do. “No! That's not it! Cursed ancestors, I just want a place to shave in peace! It's impossible! I can barely wash without Maldynado bursting in the room, because ancestors forbid the man understand the word modesty! Books and Akstyr stumble around with their heads in their books all the time, I have no idea how they manage to not walk face first into the walls! The last thing I need is one of them wandering through while I'm soaping up!”

 

And with that, Amaranthe realized that she was ranting about shaving at Sicarius, and if she hadn't seen it she wouldn't have believed the man could smirk, however small a smirk it was. She could actually feel her face glowing, and with as much dignity as she could muster, she said, “I'm sorry. You were only concerned, and I shouldn't have shouted.” She composed herself as much as she could manage, and as she walked from the room she heard him let out an amused, “Huh.”


End file.
